Almost Lois (Chapter Fourteen)

"Where were you?" He rushed forward. "Lex is out and I couldn't concentrate..."

He reached out to grasp her arms, but she pushed him away. "I'm fine. I'm better than fine."

He sniffed the air between them. "Are you drunk?"

She smiled. "Maybe." She pulled out her keys and moved toward her door. "I was... a celebration." She looked up. "That's not right... I was at a celebration," she said deliberately. "Yeah."

He watched as she tried to stab her key into the lock. "What was there to celebrate?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Maybe it was more like the opposite. Like a mourning. We licked our wounds together." She suddenly giggled and stabbed the lock again. "That's a funny saying."

"Give me that." He took her key.

"Hey!" He quickly unlocked the door for her and stepped back, holding the key. "Always think I need saving," she grumbled. She opened the door and stepped in, leaving him holding her keys in the hall.

"I was worried," he called in, afraid to move. He didn't want to invade her space again. His mother would kill him for even bring here. The women in his life had turned a little hard since he'd left.

"I'm fine, Clark," he heard her call. "Are you gonna stand out there all night"

"I don't know." He really didn't. "Are you sure you want me to come in?"

"Why not? I got an actual reason to celebrate now."

He stood petrified at the side of her door, afraid to look in. If she was okay, then he should leave. "Um... I'm gonna go."

She appeared in the doorway, a beer bottle dangling from her hand. She'd taken her shoes off. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled. He felt himself moving with her inside. She kicked the door shut. "There. Now I've made you come in. All my fault. That's how you like it." She laughed and took a sip of her beer.

"Lois, I just wanted to be sure you're okay. I don't want to fight."

"Who's fighting?" She walked backwards to the easy chair and plopped into it, spilling a little beer. "I'm having a celebration. I just got the best phone call ever." She leaned back and stretched, closing her eyes.

He looked hungrily at her camisole. It was satiny under her open blazer and her nipples pressed against it. He resisted the urge to inch his glasses down and check if she was wearing a bra. He didn't have the right.

He dropped his eyes from her breasts and found himself looking at her skirt. It was just as bad. Her legs were bare and rubbed against each other. He swallowed hard. "Um... What phone call?"

She opened her eyes and smiled. "Doctor Kevin Grady."

"The guy who's caring for Lex? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Everything." She took another sip. "He's the reason I can keep my cushy new life. He's the reason both Kents are safe. He's the reason Miss Tessmacher is dumber than ever."

He shook his head and leaned against her door. "I don't get it."

She giggled. "You really are a big, dumb alien. Remember? Kevin Grady? Son of Lawrence Grady?"

"No."

"Oh, yeah." She leaned back again. "That was the day that never was. The day an amnesiac Clark Kent actually trusted Chloe Sullivan."

"I always trusted you, Chloe... Well, after you knew."

She stood and drank the rest of her beer, letting the bottle drop to the carpet. "Yeah, you did. But trust... It doesn't keep you warm at night." She moved past him to the kitchen. "Kevin Grady is special," she called out from the kitchen. He turned and saw her over the countertop between the rooms, opening the fridge. "As in Smallville's own brand of specially abled. Kevin Grady is like a memory wiper. He got you once. I told you about it later, didn't I?"

"I... I hardly remember..." His eyes followed as she came out with two bottles this time. She handed them to him.

"Open these. I don't feel like doing it." He took each bottle and flipped the lids off easily, handing each back to her. She held out one. "Take it, Clark. I know you can't get drunk. But I don't wanna drink alone."

He took it. "What about Grady?"

"Could you sit, already?" She gestured to the couch. "I can't look at you if you keep being so tall."

He wanted to tell her he couldn't help it, but he obeyed. There was something about her now that just made him obey. He moved to the couch and sat on the end, waiting for her to take the easy chair. She didn't. She slipped off her blazer and took the other side of the couch and curled her legs under her. He suddenly saw her blonde and on the sofa in his loft, wearing nothing but his football jersey. He put his hands in his lap, holding the beer bottle in front of him. If she wanted to torture him, it was working.

"Kevin Grady once took your entire life from you for a day. During that day, Chloe Sullivan had to keep you from burning the town down with your powers. You didn't remember that. Grady gave you your life back, but he kept that day. Anyway... Grady's got even better. Good enough to be the best psychologist in all the land..." She gestured around her and giggled. "People walk out of his office with no problems, even Jimmy."

"Jimmy?"

She nodded and took another sip. "Kevin helped him with a little problem called Chloe. He was having trouble working with that dead girl he loved. Take Chloe away and BAM." She clapped her hands. "Jimmy and Lois Lane get along famously. They even do tequila shots together with Perry and Doris like some fabulously happy family." She closed her eyes and leaned back, humming to herself.

He found himself staring at her breasts again. The camisole had slipped down a bit and he could see the tiniest bit of sweat between them. He wanted to lick it off her. He took a sip of the beer instead. "So... what did Grady do to Lex?"

She opened her eyes and smiled. "That's the best part. He took eight years. Lex Luthor never moved to Smallville." She snorted. "Bet he wonders why he's got that big mansion there."

"So that's why..."

"Why what?"

"He saw me on his grounds. He didn't know who I was."

"Ta-dah!" She giggled and leaned forward. "See why I'm celebrating? Everything is perfect. Mmm." She stretched again and he felt like he was being punished. "Makes you wanna celebrate life." She put her beer down on the coffee table, then leaned over and reach for his. He let it go, his hands empty in his lap. It was deja vu as she crawled toward him, putting a leg over his lap. He quickly moved his hands away from her.

"W-what are you doing?" She settled in his lap and he leaned back as far as he could. Was this a test?

"Celebrating life." She began unbuttoning his shirt and he froze. "I've just had this thought. I mean..." She bit her lip and he found parts of him unfreezing. "Life is too short to go without great sex. We always had great sex, you and me." She ran her hands over his chest and he felt his eyes closing.

"I thought you didn't want to be friends," he breathed.

"I don't." He felt her lips near his ear. "And I don't wanna be your fuck buddy either. I want you to be mine."

He opened his eyes, but they closed again at the sensation of her tongue in his ear. "Your what?"

"Booty call." She laughed throatily. "Or whatever you call it."

"You're drunk," he moaned. He wanted to pull her off him and place her a safe distance away, but he couldn't move.

She ground herself against him. "Not so drunk I can't feel you poking me in all the right places."

"You'll hate me." He felt her shift against him and her lips were on his neck.

"I hate you now." She bit him and he gasped. "Doesn't mean I don't want you. But what poetic justice..." He opened his eyes as she rose up over him. "I come to you and fuck you and you have to sit around and wait for it. Just like I did. And I'll pretend it never happened. Maybe even date someone else." She laughed again. "Don't worry. I'd dump your ass first."

His feelings were roiling inside him. Want. Hurt. Lust. Jealousy. Longing. "I... I can't..."

"Why not?" She ran a hand up his face and took his glasses away. "I did. In fact, you owe me." She leaned forward and licked lightly at the seam of his lips.

He didn't know what to do. Every possible decision seemed wrong. "Lois, I should go..."

She pulled back and grasped the edge of her camisole. "Leave now and I'll leave, too." She pulled it over her head and tossed it behind her. No bra. Oh, God. "I'll go where you'll never find me." She smiled and ran her hands over her own breasts. His hips surged upwards. "You said that to me once, Clark. Well... Kal did." She snapped her hips forward and he moved again. "What's it gonna be, Clark?"

"I... Um... The..." He couldn't form words. Did she have red K on her somewhere? The way he felt now, it must be emanating from her every pore. But that was stupid. It was just her. She was the only one that made him feel this way. "Anything you want," he said, gazing into her eyes. They were slightly red from the drinking, but that only made them greener.

She smiled and stroked her nails over his nipples. "Good," she said as he hissed in a breath. "Because I want it on the couch. Right now." She rose up balancing above him with her arms on his shoulders. "Undo your pants."

He obeyed and brought his hands to his belt, unbuckling it before getting to the button and zipper on his slacks. He started to lift his hips to push them down.

"That's enough."

He stopped, watching wide-eyed as she pulled her skirt to her waist. She was still balancing high and her panties were right in front of him.

"Rip them off."

He raised his eyes to hers as he hooked his fingers in the sides and pulled outward. They fluttered to his lap and rested on his boxers, heavily tented with the evidence of what she did to him. He started to pull her down, but she stopped him. She moved his hands from her hips around to her ass. He gripped her cheeks and looked up again. She stood, one foot on either side of him, her hands still balanced on his shoulders. "What do you want?"

"Hold me like this."

He nodded and she took her hands from his shoulders. He felt her knees move to replace them and he knew what she wanted. He saw her pussy before him and he tightened his hands on her ass.

"I didn't say to do anything yet." He looked up, through the valley of her breasts and into her eyes, waiting. "Eat me, Clark."

He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled in and felt her knees slide forward as his lips found her. She gasped as he licked her, slit to clit, savoring the smell, the slightly sweet and salty taste. He heard her gasp, felt her shudder and he did it again. He closed his eyes, using his sense of touch, smell, taste to guide him. He worked his tongue up between her folds, feeling with the tip for that
stiff little bit of flesh that he was looking for. Her hands were on his arms and they gripped harder.

A loud moan told him he'd found what he needed and he hummed against her even as his body shuddered. He could feel his cock rising further, scraping against the slit of his boxers. He could almost see it pointing upward, pointing home, and he willed it down. This was for her, for Lois now and for Chloe then. He would atone. He let his tongue press against her clit, circling once and she writhed. He let one hand slide up her back to hold her steady.

He breathed hotly over the little nub of flesh, licking to the sides and all around, thoroughly enjoying the steady humming moans of the writhing woman around him, above him. He continued teasing all around her clit with lips and tongue, flicking out to taste it now and then.

"Jesus... Clark, just give it to me," she gasped above him.

He let both hands slip to her waist, gripping over the bunched up skirt... Then he feasted. He ran his tongue around and around her clit firmly. Licking the underside hard and fast, he sucked with his lips pressed against her.

Her hips bucked against him and her hands fell to his head as she ground herself into his face and nearly screamed. He kept going, licking then sucking, even when her screams turns to moans, then pants, then died down. The only remaining evidence of her orgasm the twitching of her body and the wetness that ran down his chin.

He steadied his arms and pulled her down, letting her knees slide off is shoulders and come to rest on either side of him again. He head lolled backwards, then forward, but her hands still clenched his hair. She finally loosened her grip and lay boneless against him. His cock was clamoring for her, but he stayed still.

She braced her hands against his chest and rose up slightly, opening her eyes. She giggled and reached between them, picking up the panties that his dick had dislodged. She wiped them across his lips and down his chin. "You're a messy eater."

He found himself smiling. "Only when it's really tasty." He licked the taste of her from his lips and she frowned.

"I don't want to be on the couch anymore. Put me in my bed."

He nodded and gripped her waist, rising from the couch. His pants hung low around his hips and he held her high. He didn't want to let her slip and fall on his still-hard cock, not in mid-stride. He carried her to her room as her breath hit his shoulder and her hair fell across his mouth with every inward breath.

He laid her over the covers, then lifted her to pull them down. She put a hand on his arm.

"My skirt..." He let the covers go and pulled her skirt down. She then put her hand up and grasped the back of his neck. He let her pull him down for a kiss. She rubbed her lips over his, then let her tongue dart inside. He welcomed it and let his own slide against it until she pulled away. She sat up and pulled the covers over herself. "Go home, Clark." She laid back and stared dully at him. "I'm done with you."

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